Susan stared at her.
“I searched my whole house.”
“You told me you had never seen it.”
“I don’t remember every bowl—”
“You held it at my barbecue!”
Silence fell for half a second.
Then Carol asked:
“How much did you take?”
“I didn’t take anything!”
George held up the truck.
“Then why was this in your garbage?”
Marlene turned toward me.
“You set me up!”
I folded my arms.
“I organized the charity giveaway you just publicly took credit for.”
Her mouth shut.
“You were perfectly happy calling all of this yours while you thought strangers were taking it.”
I looked around the lawn.
“You just didn’t realize I invited the actual owners.”
THEN I SAW SOMETHING UNDER A BLANKET
Dark wood.
I pulled the blanket aside.
My breath stopped.
My husband’s handmade picture frame.
The crooked one.
The one I had searched for.
The one I had convinced myself I misplaced.
Marlene went completely still.
“You took this too.”
“I don’t remember—”
“I do.”
I held it up.
“You told me it didn’t match my living room.”
Then suddenly—
the pattern became obvious.
Susan’s bowl disappeared after Susan asked Marlene’s children to stay out of her flowers.
George’s truck vanished after he refused to support one of Marlene’s neighborhood complaints.
Carol’s cake server stayed missing after Carol confronted Marlene about blocking her driveway.
My frame disappeared right after I finally told Marlene’s children not to run through my flower beds.
I looked directly at her.
“You weren’t taking these because you wanted them.”
Marlene shook her head.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You took something meaningful every time somebody told you no.”
Susan tightened her grip on the bowl.
“You knew my mother made this.”
George raised the truck.
“You knew exactly what this meant to me.”
Marlene looked around Cedarbrook Lane.
For once—
nobody defended her.
